The Meaning of Words
by fabalafae22
Summary: It's been 9 years since The Chitauri attacked NYC & 4 since tragedy struck the lab Bruce Banner shared w/ Richard & Mary Parker (which is based off of an alternate version of The Hulk). Since Bruce was Peter Parker's godfather, he & his husband, Tony Stark, must raise the young Spider-Man while Bruce is busy fighting himself. Set in NYC. Also includes X-Men & Deadpool crossover.
1. Freak

_Oh my God, he can't be. He can't be like me._ "It's not fair."

Peter shifts into the doorway, holding a small pink blanket to his chest. "What's not fair, Papa?"

"Oh, nothing." Bruce quickly looks away from his son.

"Papa?"

"Yes?"

"Please tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Tell me what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you, you got that? Go to bed," he says gently.

"But, Papa-"

"Please, Peter. It's time for bed." He walks over and crouches down, putting his arms around the boy. "Don't worry; everything's going to be just fine."

The boy nods, his little mouth spreading into a yawn. He turns around. Bruce gives him a light push in the back, guiding his son to his room.

/

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this." Tony is slouched over the kitchen table with a bottle of wine.

"He's starting to ask, Tony, and I don't know what to tell him. How could we let this happen?" Bruce takes the seat across from his husband and puts his head in his arms.

"It's alright, Petey's going to be just fine," Tony breathes, smelling of liquor and a bit like cigarettes.

"Tony, have you started smoking again?"

"No, why do you ask?" He takes another swig from the bottle.

"This is not the time to start spiraling," Bruce says seriously.

"Spiraling? Who said anything about spiraling? You're the one who took our son to a radiation lab," Tony snorts, slurring apparent in his voice.

"At your request!" Bruce is incredulous; his voice rises dangerously by the second, and his eyes glowing green instead of their normal dark brown."'Take your son to work, babe. It'll be safe. It'd be nice for him to see what Papa does for a change! In fact, let him see what the_ Parkers_ did for a living!'" He spits out his old friends' name like it will remove the lump forming in his throat. "Does any of that sound even remotely familiar?"

"You're the one who was jealous! This whole time you'd been saying it didn't bother you that I was more successful, but then you go and pout about it-"

"Woah, woah, who's pouting? You're the one who wanted to do the whole dad act, but guess what, Tony? If you keep this up, you're only going to become your father!"_ Or even worse: mine._

Tony stands up quickly, knocking his chair over. "I am not my father_._" He stabs the words into Bruce's chest with a wavering finger, his eyes livid despite the liquor.

Bruce sees the pain flash in the other man's eyes and immediately feels guilty for what he said.

"Daddy? Papa?" Peter appears in front of them, rubbing his big, round eyes tiredly.

"What are you doing up, sport?" Tony's countenance and tone shift quickly, as not to upset the eight-year-old.

"Why are you fighting?" Peter looks between the two men.

"We're not fighting, Petey." Bruce adopts Tony's silly little nickname for the boy, trying to seem upbeat. "Daddy and I were just having a discussion. Go back upstairs, and I'll come read you a bedtime story." Banner looks at his watch; it's nearly ten-thirty.

Peter obliges, dragging his blanket up the long, winding stairs.

"Oh, God, what have I done…" Bruce lets his head fall to the table's cool surface once Peter has disappeared upstairs.

"It's not your fault, Bruce. Kids get into trouble. They run around and touch things they're not supposed to touch. My father saw that often enough." Tony laughs, closing up the bottle of wine.

Bruce exhales tiredly and kisses Tony lightly on his wine-stained lips. He then treks upstairs to Peter's room, as promised. To Bruce's surprise, Peter seems to be asleep. He turns out the light and begins closing the door.

"Papa?"

_Crap._ "Yeah?"

"Will you tell me a story? Not from a book."

Bruce steps into the room and sits in a cushiony armchair by the bed. Everything is lit by the moon and city lights, and Bruce can see Peter's delicate features in the shadows. "What story do you want to hear?"

"Tell me more about my parents."

Bruce slides his hand down his face and lets out a deep sigh._ Now is as good a time as any._ He takes a deep breath in a sort of preparation. "Once upon a time, when your mom and dad worked with me at the lab, some very mean people showed up. They wanted to steal things. Information, chemicals, things like that." He hesitates. "Your parents fought the bad people so they didn't get what they wanted. It cost them their lives." Bruce sighs again.

"Did you help?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did Mr. Hulk help?"

Bruce smiles. "Yes, Mr. Hulk helped."

/

"_Where's my mom and dad?" Peter whimpers._

"_They're gone." Tears burn behind Bruce's eyes._

"_Are they coming back?"_

"_No, Peter. They're not." He lifts the small boy and hugs him to his chest. "I'm sorry."_

/

When Bruce comes back downstairs, Tony is passed out on the couch in a nearby living room of their large penthouse apartment. Bruce opens the bottle of wine – which is now half empty – and takes a swig. He sets it back down on the table, grimacing at the bitter taste. Banner decides not to wake the sleeping billionaire, and instead begins cleaning the kitchen before heading to bed himself. This is not a good night to stay up tinkering, and it's not like he's going to get Tony's help.

After staring at the ceiling for a while, Bruce falls asleep. Most nights, he doesn't dream – or he doesn't remember – but when he does, it's always the same. He's in his lab – the one he used back in the day, and the one he uses when he isn't working with the Avengers. Richard Parker is there. It's the day of the attack. It had been Rick's day off, but Bruce had needed some extra help with the spider project. The spies – or whatever you want to call them – always come in the same way. It's two men and one woman, and they have guns and start giving orders. Richard just keeps saying "Get back, I can handle this." Bruce protests, and then he can feel the Other Guy beginning to take on his body. It's almost seamless – as it sometimes is. That's the worst part, really. Not only is he not in control, but it's almost_ natural_. Like that's how he_ should_ be instead of human – instead of who he always thought himself to be. It's worse than just being exposed. After that, he can't remember anything else from the attack – even as he relives it over and over and over again. Bruce needs to know what really happened.

/

"Okay, Petey. One more time." Tony crouches down a few feet away from his son. "Focus." They're both standing in the offset laboratory in the middle of what Tony calls a training session. Reminds him of the good old days when he first starting building suits.

Peter closes one eye and his tongue protrudes slightly.

Tony rolls his eyes. "Okay, no. Both eyes open. Face the target."

The boy re-adjusts, concentrating on a small target hanging from Dummy, one of Tony's A.I. machines. He shoots web from his wrist that somehow manages to miss the target completely and hits one of many Mark editions, which teeters and falls onto another suit, causing a domino effect. "Oops..."

Tony sighs, though he's impressed by his son's abilities. "That's... okay. I'll clean it up later."

The lab door opens. "Everything alright down there?" Bruce calls from upstairs.

"Yeah, everything's fine!" Tony answers, then lowers his voice. "This is our little secret, okay?"

Peter nods.

"Dinner's ready! Oh, and Wade's eating over."

"Yay!" Peter races upstairs, and Tony follows.

The three of them and Wade Wilson sit at the kitchen table. It's taco night, and Wade is more than pleased. With his mouth stuffed with food, he enthusiastically raves about the food to anyone listening; his hyperactivity is getting the best of him.

Bruce grins to himself, then glances over at Tony, who is picking out the lettuce and tomatoes and laying them to the side. Banner rolls his eyes.

"Pass the hot sauce?" Tony asks Peter.

Peter reaches over the table and web flies from his wrist, latching onto the bottle of Sriracha.

Everyone stops eating - even Wade, who breaks the stunned silence. "Woah..." He stares, his eyes gleaming. "That is _so_ cool!"

Peter tries to shake the bottle from his hand. It's stuck.

"Let's go... try to get that off, huh, buddy?" Bruce stands up, taking Peter's upper arm in his grip. He leads his son over to the bathroom and turns on the water. Peter stands on a step stool as Bruce runs the warm water over his tiny wrist.

"It's hot."

"Oh. Sorry." Bruce lets a little cold water run as he peels the web off. He sighs. "Try not to do that when people are around, though, okay?"

"Why not?"

"Because... people wouldn't understand... how special you are."

"Is that why you don't let Mr. Hulk out in public?"

Bruce frowns thoughtfully and bobs his head. "Kind of."

They go back to the kitchen, and Bruce hands Tony the bottle with the label now completely peeled off.

"Thanks..." Tony trails off, examining the bottle.

/

After dinner, the two boys head upstairs. Wade sits down at the computer in Bruce's office. There are papers everywhere, so Peter scoots a stack over and pushes another chair beside his friend. "I want to show you... hold on." Wade's little fingers plunge away at the keys, typing too quickly for Peter to process anything. "This is what happened in New York before you were born." The video on the screen begins playing; Peter recognizes his "uncle" Steve, aunt Natasha, Thor, weird uncle Clint... "Hey, that's my dad! Where's Papa..."

"Wait for it..."

A big, green monster-like creature flashes on the screen. The camera has trouble remaining steady. The thing roars. Wade pauses the video on a close-up of it.

"There."

"That's..." Peter whispers.

"That. Is the Hulk. Isn't he cool?" Wade turns to Peter in excitement. Peter can't stop staring at the screen. "I wish my dad was as cool as yours."

"Yeah..." He says faintly. "Cool."

"They say he only transforms when he's angry, and I think that's just awesome," Wade beams.

Peter nods solemnly. _So that's why he doesn't let it out in public..._

/

Wade sleeps over that night, snoring on the floor of Peter's bedroom.

Tony and Bruce are sitting in the living room, in the middle of an actual discussion.

"His father reminds me of - well you know who he reminds me of."

"He's not a drunk, Bruce."

"You saw him on a good day. I get to work with him from time to time. You'd think he'd be grateful after signing his kid up for our experimentation. I mean, it's working. Yet he still acts like we're a bunch of Tanzanian witch doctors or something. He's getting money out of the deal, too."

/

_A five-year-old blond boy steps into a large laboratory, holding the hand of who is presumably his father, while the other is being used to stick his thumb into his little mouth._

_Bruce greets the gruff gentleman first. "Mr. Wilson." They shake hands. The scientist crouches down. "Hello, I'm Dr. Bruce."_

"_I'm Wade," the boy mumbles, still sucking his thumb. His big, blue eyes stare at Bruce in fear. "Why don't you go over to Dr. Rick. He'll get you set up, okay?"_

_Wade nods and releases himself from his father's firm grip._

"_Dr. Banner, I trust y'all will take care of my boy?"_

"_Of course. You're aware of all the procedures, right?"_

"_If I wasn't, d'ya think I'd send him into a lab like this'un if I didn't?"_

"_Right." Bruce's lips twist into a frown. "Well, we'll be in touch then."_

"_Uh-huh." Mr. Wilson walks toward the door. "You be good, boy. Ya hear?"_

_Bruce wasn't quite sure if he was talking to his son or the doctor himself. Brushing that all aside, he walks over to Rick and Wade. "So, are we doing chemo today, or..."_

"_I thought we could start out with a couple of tests. How does that sound, little man?"_

_Wade nods again._

"_Good, now I'll just plug you up to this machine. It's going to be cold, so puff your chest out like a big muscle guy..."_

_Banner watches as Richard attaches electrodes to the boy's pale chest. _He's too young for this, _Bruce thinks sadly. _As long as everything goes according to plan, he'll be good and healthy in no time.

/

"Okay, now this time, aim for me." Tony holds up a metal shield, protecting the spot an electromagnet used to fill. If only Steve could see him now.

"Are you sure I should be-"

"What did I tell you? Now, look at me. Focus." Tony positions himself behind his shield.

Peter stares at the sheet and aims. Web shoots out of the device on his wrist that he helped Tony put together, but instead of hitting the shield, the elastic substance latches onto Tony's face. Stark stumbles back, clawing at his face, unable to breathe.

"Papa!" Peter screams.

Bruce bounds down the stairs. "What in the w- Tony!" Bruce grabs his husband by the collar and drags him over to the counter. He takes a scalpel-like rod and carefully carves away at the film. It's surprisingly thick. He peels the web away, revealing Tony's wide eyes and gasping mouth.

"This is not going to work." Bruce pulls away and takes Peter's hand in his. "Come on, let's go upstairs. I've got some phone calls to make."

Tony slides down against the cabinets, trying to regain composure. _That's one way to bring some shit back from the deep end._

/

"_Mutant_ camp? You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not."

"Bruce-"

"You saw went on down there. You want that to happen again?"

"No, but-"

"Look, this is a good way for him to gain some more control. It's two weeks, and he'll be home on weekends. All I need is Wade's father's approval so that he can go too. He keeps calling it 'camp for circus freaks'."

Tony sits up a little taller; that struck a nerve. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

Bruce smiles and shakes his head. "I think I can handle it."

"Ororoe Monroe. What kind of name is that?"

"She prefers Storm, I think. She's the head of the X-Men operation. Nice woman, I met her once. She took over for Xavier back in the day. She's the one who gave us the blood donation for Wade."

"From that Wolverine guy."

"Yeah, you'd like him. He's kind of like you."

Tony glares at Bruce then rolls his eyes. "He's an ass."

"Hey, you said it – not me." Bruce chuckles, holding up his hands in defense.

/


	2. Normal

Peter may be shy, but he fits in rather well at camp. Wade, on the other hand, is a different story.

Wade is nearly a full head taller than Peter, and he is about two years older. His messy blond locks come in tangled waves that swoop into his eyes. There are scars on his face – and all over the rest of him. They look a lot like burns – the kind that don't heal too well. Most people are kind enough to ignore this flaw, but not everyone is.

"Hey! Scarface!" A big kid with large, unproportional features looms above Wade threateningly.

Wade's eyes snap wide open. The wheels in his brain begin turning. "What's up, Blockhead?"

Peter watches from a few feet away.

"What'd you call me?"

"No different than Scarface, big guy."

The giant shoves Wade backward. "You wanna go?"

"Go where? Dancing? 'Cause that's where this looks like it's headed," Wilson challenges. He's pretty tough for a ten-year-old; life made him hard, but he uses it to his advantage.

"Sure, I'll waltz you right across the floor." Blockhead grabs Wade by the collar.

_Okay, so he's more clever than I expected. I can work with that._

"You leave him alone!" Peter cries suddenly. He aims right at the big kid, and web comes flying out of his wrist – more than he expected from the little device – effectively strapping the bully to the side of a building.

"Thanks, Pete. I could have taken him, though." Wade teleports over to the hanging giant. "Well, would you look at that. Just like a fly in a spider web. You're lucky this kid's on a diet." He points to Peter. "Oh, and one more thing." Wade pulls back his fist and then slams it into Blockhead's jaw. He admires his handiwork."That oughta leave a mark."

/

"The apron. It's a good look for you," Bruce jokes.

"Oh, I know. Iron Man." Tony points to the suit on the front.

"Ahhh... that's... lovely." Bruce starts toward the refrigerator.

"Hold on." Tony pours something that looks like concrete mix from a blender. "Try it," he urges.

Bruce squints at the glass skeptically. "What is it?"

"Just try it."

Banner takes a sip. "Oh, God. What flavor is this?" He gulps, recoiling in disgust.

"You don't like it?" Tony pouts.

"I don't even know if it's edible."

"Fine. More for me." Tony grabs the glass and drinks some of the muddy-colored slush he'd concocted. "Nope," he grunts. "Changed my mind." The rest gets poured down the sink_. So much for surprises._

/

Wade struts into his and Peter's shared room. Peter is lying on his bed, staring at the too-white ceiling. "What's up, Pete?"

"They confiscated my shooter 'til the end of the week."

"Oh, that sucks. They took my teleporter too. They shouldn't be able to do that. It's an injustice," he asserts.

Peter smiles at his friend's decisive announcement and tilts his head upward to face him. "Hey, Wade?"

"Uh-huh?"

"How'd you get those scars?"

"Uh, it's a long story. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay." Peter lays back down. _No one ever wants to talk about anything – not here, and definitely not at home._

/

"Sooo..." Tony exhales. "How's work?"

"Fine."

"How are you?"

"Fine."

"Just like that?"

"Yep."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Nope."

/

Peter wriggles around in his sleep.

_The big green thing is coming towards him. It roars._

"_Why did you have to get in trouble, Petey?" Tony calls from afar._

"_I'm sorry, Daddy!"_

_The Hulk nears, smashing everything in its way._

"_Papa!" Peter screams._

Peter wakes with a start, clutching his blanket in the pitch black room. He turns on the beside lamp. Wade isn't even there.

/

Tony and Bruce stroll by the toy display in a large department store. Tony taps Bruce on the shoulder and gestures toward a rather menacing Hulk action figure. "They really did not do you justice, babe."

"Look at yours. You have a, um, a wrist thing...what is this?"

"I don't know..." Tony presses the button on a toy. "But it lights up! Okay, who thought it was a good idea to make an Iron Man bobble head? He taps one and it starts nodding."

"Looks just like you." Bruce chuckles. "The big head..."

Tony raises his eyebrows at Bruce. "What's this about a big head?"

"Oh, nothing," Bruce pouts his lip and shrugs, turning his attention back to the toys. "Look, a mini shield! We should get this for Steve. I wonder if he even knows this stuff exists."

"Oh, he knows. I may or may not have sent him a couple action figures in the mail." Tony tries to look innocent; he fails.

/

"Where did you go last night?" Peter whispers over breakfast.

"Whatya talkin' 'bout?" Wade mumbles through a mouthful of eggs.

"I woke up and you weren't there."

"Oh! I got..." Wade swallows and lowers his voice. "I got our stuff back."

Peter's eyes grow wide. "What stuff?"

"Our stuff. My teleporter. Your web shooter."

"How?"

"Took 'em." Wade takes another forkful.

"Wade! You're going to get us in trouble!"

"Are you gonna tell?"

"No..."

"Well, then don't worry 'bout it! I got your back, man!"

Peter just nods and picks at his food. Just a few more days until the end to the week.

/

Driving around in the Audi in silence is boring, so Tony slides his hand into Bruce's lap, copping a feel.

Bruce tenses at the mere touch. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Oh, nothing..." The playboy shrugs, breaking into a sly grin.

"Tony, I'm trying to drive here."

"I know..." His hand travels a bit, putting pressure further into Bruce's groin.

Banner gasps softly despite himself.

"Oh, you like that, huh, Doctor?"

"Tony, please..." The scientist tries to protest, but now he can't tell which side he's on. The car swerves a bit to the left. "Sorry!" Bruce utters. His knuckles are white against the black steering wheel.

Tony removes his hand. "Maybe I should drive," he says cautiously. Bruce has been strained for a while now, and, as a result, absolutely nothing has been going on the bedroom – not even cuddling. Bruce isn't to be touched. Tony is beginning to worry. He looks at the clock on the dashboard. "We still have at least an hour before Petey needs to be picked up. What do you say you and me swing by the Tower?"

"Oh- okay."Bruce relaxes a bit.

Tony moves instinctively to put his arm around Bruce's shoulders, but he retracts; he knows better.

Once inside the tower, Tony greets people casually while Bruce shuffles in behind him, hands in pockets, staring off into space. He smiles at a few people he recognizes, but other than that, he just feels as if he's under scrutiny – which is beyond uncomfortable. The two men take an elevator up to Tony's penthouse.

Silence begins to drown them both, so Tony begins rambling. "So, I was thinking, when Petey gets back, we could work more on the web shooter, since he'll have more control of his abilities. There's more than just that – more than the webs. I've seen him. Maybe that camp will help him figure some of that stuff out. I'm actually kinda glad we sent him. I mean, when he gets older, he could really _be _something. I know he's just a kid now, but someday..." Tony's eyes shine with imaginative thought. "That kid's going places, Brucie."

Bruce remains silence, unsure of what to say. It isn't often Tony pulls out his little pet name for the man, and all this talk of Peter's powers is giving him as much anxiety as thinking about the Other Guy – perhaps even more. "Can we just..." Banner clears his throat. "Not..."

Tony's face falls as he slips back into reality. "Sure, Bruce. We don't have to talk about it. Sorry, I, uh, I'm just excited."

"I know." Bruce can't find it in himself to be as excited as Tony, and he's far too preoccupied to act like it.

Silence again. Tension. Tony doesn't bother to ask what he's thinking. The elevator doors open, and they walk into the penthouse; Pepper is there.

"Hey," Tony kisses her on the cheek lightly. Bruce hangs back.

"Bruce, always a pleasure." Pepper smiles and shakes his hand. Unlike Tony, she knows where the lines are drawn. Pepper was always a good friend in that way. She doesn't even bring up Peter, though Bruce suspects she knows just about everything. If Bruce won't talk about it, then Tony would find someone who would.

Stark walks over to a bottle of scotch and grabs some glasses. "Drink?" He offers.

"No, thanks." Pepper answers.

Bruce doesn't say anything.

"Well, I might as well anyway." Tony pours a little into one glass and downs it with one gulp.

"I think I'll go back to work-" Pepper starts toward the door.

"No!" Bruce says a little more forcefully than he intended. "I, uh, we won't be here long. You might as well stay. How are things going?"

He's looking for a distraction. Pepper can tell.

She looks at him curiously, but then begins making conversation. _It's better not to ask,_ she figures. _Tony did say something was up._

/

Bruce hears voices from around the corner. He stops and backs against the wall, listening.

"Peter, you really shouldn't have done that," Tony reprimands.

_Done what?_

"Are you going to tell Papa?"

"No, I think you should. He isn't my dad."

"But... what if he gets mad and- and Mr. Hulk comes out and-"

"Woah, hold on. What? Who said anything about-"

Peter looks at his father in earnest.

Tony sighs. "Now, you listen to me. That's not going to happen. Believe me, I've made Papa made about a- a bazillion times before you."

"A bazillion?"

"Yeah, I just invented it. Now, go on up to bed. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

Bruce's breath comes in shudders. He manages to calm down before climbing up the stairs alone. _My own son is afraid of me._

/

Lying in bed, Tony listens to Bruce breathe steadily beside him. Then, he hears a hitch in the other man's throat. Tony looks over at him. Bruce's face is still peaceful. Stark re-adjusts and closes his eyes. There it is again. His eyes flicker open.

"No..." Bruce murmurs in his sleep. "No..." He turns over.

_Well, this is a first._

"Please don't...don't go... I won't... Papa won't hurt you; I promise. Peter, I won't get mad." He flinches.

_Shit, he must have heard us._

"I just want to be normal..." He buries his face further into the pillow. "Normal..." He murmurs.

Tony reaches over and places his hand on the other man's shoulder. Banner relaxes under his touch. His breathing slows again, and Tony's heart regains normal pace.

_Oh, great, more painful memories. Didn't see that one coming. But if he wants normal. I'll give him normal._

/


	3. Help

The weekend passes by quickly, and before they know it, Bruce and Tony drop Peter off at the train station again.

"I'll miss you, buddy." Tony bends down to hug his son.

"One more week." Bruce fakes a smile and looks away.

"Papa?"

Banner turns. They still haven't talked about whatever happened at camp, nor the fact that Bruce's search history included a video about New York from nine years ago.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, Peter."

Peter crashes into Bruce's hip in a hug. Bruce lets his hand rub his son's shoulder, and then they part. Peter runs toward Wade and a group of camp attendees and chaperones.

_One more week._

/

_"And Papa Bear said," Bruce continues, "someone's been eating my porridge!" He turns the page._

"_Can I call you Papa?" Four-year-old Peter suddenly asks._

_Bruce looks at him curiously and takes off his glasses. "If you want-"_

"_Only if you call me Daddy," Tony interjects, poking his head in the doorway._

"_Okay!" Peter's little face lights up._

_/_

Tony stares at the holograph in front of him and begins dictating his thoughts."At the peak of his transformation, I'll stick the needle in. That should combat whatever it is that causes his metamorphosis."

"Sir, are you sure you want to do this?" Asks JARVIS.

"I've run enough tests. It's just a matter of when now..." Tony stares at the vials of solution. "I just want him to be happy. And if this will make him happy, I'll do it. He shouldn't ever have to feel like a monster because he's not one." Tony seems to be talking more to himself. "He's my best friend, and his own worst enemy. I... I love him – Hulk or no Hulk. " He pauses. "I just want to help."

"Of course, sir."

Banner comes down to the lab to see what Tony is up to. He's been spending a lot of time down there, working on something he hasn't quite let Bruce in on.

"Hey, I brought you a snack." Bruce drops a half gallon of blueberries on the counter; they buy them in bulk.

"Oh!" The holograph Tony was looking at disappears. He pokes some figures on a screen. "Didn't expect to see you down here." Stark embraces his husband, who tried his best not to grow tense. Tony claps him between the shoulder blades as he grabs some blueberries.

Bruce flinches.

Tony's brows furrow. "You okay?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know, you just seem..."

"It's been a long day at work."

"You know you'd never have to work another day-"

Bruce presses his index finger to Tony's lips. They've had this conversation more than once.

"I enjoy what I do and I-"

"Couldn't imagine leaving the lab," Tony finishes. " know; I know. But then you could be at home..." Tony leans in. "With me..."

Their lips meet; Bruce doesn't fight it this time. It's hard to tell who starts it, but it's clear what ends it because Tony bumps something on the counter that crashes to the floor.

Stark bends down reluctantly to retrieve the pieces.

"Here let me help you." Bruce begins picking up large shards of glass and thin plastic. His shoes squeak as he steps in a puddle of transparent pink liquid. "What's this?"

"Just some chemicals I've been working with," Tony answers casually.

_Chemicals?_ Bruce raises an eyebrow, then ignores his own growing curiosity and continues sorting fragments of glass in a growing pile. Until one cuts his finger. "Ow," he hisses.

"What did you- oh. Here, just wash it off in the sink."

Bruce nods. The gash is bigger than he expected. Tony slides his hand on Bruce's shoulder. Banner shrugs it off instinctively.

_Okay, this is getting ridiculous._

"Bruce?"

"Mhmm?" Bruce retrieves some gauze from a drawer – there aren't any Band-Aids – and wraps it around his finger.

"I thought maybe we could do something tonight – just the two of us – since Peter is away."

"Like?"

"We could go to dinner or a movie or, ya know, go upstairs," he shrugs. "Not that I'm suggesting anything."

"Not that you're suggesting anything." Bruce raises his eyebrows.

"Nope," Tony purses his lips. "Nothing. It's just... you've been pretty high-stress lately."

Bruce laughs dryly. "Really now?"

"Yeah, and I thought maybe you'd like to take your mind off of it."

Bruce sighs. "You mean take my mind off the fact that my own son is afraid of me?" He mumbles.

"What?"

"Or that I put him in the same position I'm in with the Other Guy? Is that what I'm supposed to take my mind off of?"

"Bruce, that's not-"

"No, see, the thing is, I should have seen this coming. We were going along so great. The whole package: the family, the job, the house. It was only a matter of time before I screwed it up." His voice is precariously tense.

"Babe..."

"Don't you 'babe' me," Bruce grumbles bitterly. "At least our son doesn't worry that if he tells you something, he might get squashed by the mighty Hulk!"

Tony takes a step back. There's that glow again, but this time it's not going down. Stark reaches into his pocket as Bruce leans against the counter, breathing heavily.

_**At the peak of his transformation,**_

Bruce's back arches, the fibers of his shirt already beginning to stretch. Green washes over his skin like a bruise in hyper-speed.

_**I'll stick the needle in.**_

In a flash, Tony retrieves the syringe from his pocket, slips off the cap, and stabs it into Bruce's side.

_**That should combat whatever it is that causes his metamorphosis.**_

Bruce gasps and cries out in pain. His body goes rigid; his face contorts with agony. "What did you do?!" He screams; the serum begins ravaging Bruce's body immediately. The transformation has reversed, but not as expected.

_**Sir, are you sure you want to do this?**_

Bruce's throat quickly begins to constrict, and his eyes go wild. Before Tony can catch him, Banner's knees go weak, and he hits the floor. He shakes violently, his body trying to combat the foreign substance.

_**I just want him to be happy. And if this will make him happy,**_

For a second, Tony stands in shock, then drops the needle and bends down to gather Bruce in his arms.

_**I'll do it.**_

Bruce continues to convulse as animal-like sounds escape his throat. Tony tries to restrain the scientist's arms as Bruce clutches at his own clothes, his fingers clawing at the fabric.

"Bruce! Can you hear me? Bruce!"

_**He shouldn't ever have to feel like a monster...**_

Banner howls in response and curls his body inward as tightly as possible.

"JARVIS, get an ambulance." Tony's voice is surprisingly calm.

_**Because he's not one. He's my best friend...**_

"No!" Bruce chokes. "Don't!"

"Babe, we have to get you to the hospital."

_**And his own worst enemy.**_

"If I transform at the hospital," he breathes, "that's the end, Tony."

_**I love him –**_

_The end of what?_ Well, whatever it is, Tony doesn't have the time to find out. He pries Bruce's limbs from their tight grasp of his trembling shins and hooks his elbows beneath Banner's armpits, dragging him over to the couch.

_**Hulk or no Hulk.**_

"T-Tony," he splutters. "What did you put in me?"

Tony rapidly begins spewing a bunch of scientific jargon that Bruce is too dizzy to follow. For a moment, Banner just looks up at his husband, who is on the verge of tears and terribly good at hiding it.

_**I just want to help.**_

/

The next few minutes turn to hours, which then turns to days. Bruce still lays on the couch, hardly moving at all. Tony checks on him constantly; he's got him hooked up to the heart monitor he once used on himself, as well as other machines and things. The scientist had quickly developed a fever that is getting worse, if anything. He'd even began hallucinating at one point.

Tony treats the puncture in Bruce's side – which is really starting to look like a wound – every few hours. Ironically, it has even turned a shade of muddled green. At night, after Bruce has essentially passed out, Tony researches other antidotes – anything that might possibly help. He looks over to Bruce's side of the bed before he sleeps and then lies awake for hours, drowning in guilt and anxiety. He cries himself to sleep, which is really just humiliating, even though he's alone.

/

This kid named Blaze reminds Peter of Wade – not that he wants them to meet. That kind of seems like a bad idea. A group of them – Blaze, Spike, Crypta, Liona – sit on the floor of Peter and Wade's room. They've taken the liberty of naming Peter "Spidey", which makes him feel accepted and cool.

"Wanna see a trick my dad taught me?" Blaze grins haphazardly.

The other kids nod – except for Peter. Somehow, he can sense something isn't quite right.

Blaze lights the tip of his finger with a match and nears a lamp. He removes the shade and brings the flame closer to the bulb. Suddenly, the bulb explodes and everyone runs out of the room – but without thinking about it, Peter has attached himself to the ceiling by his hands and feet.

At that moment, Wade decides to enter the room. "Hey, Pete, you in here?" Wade turns toward the closet.

"Up here!"

Wade slowly raises his gaze. "What the..."

"I'm stuck."

/

Tony sits next to Bruce and just talks like they are holding a conversation, though Bruce is nearly comatose at this point. No matter how much antitoxin Tony injects, it doesn't seem to help much. So, he just sits there holding Bruce's clammy hand in his and talking about Peter and work and memories of the two of them – and the three of them. Tony hopes that Bruce can hear him, that he is listening and that he will eventually get better because what would he do without this man? They have stood by each other for so long, and Peter is due home in a matter of days.

/

"How'd you do that?" Wade asks after climbing on the bed to unstick Peter from the ceiling and help him down.

"I don't know."

"Well, you better figure it out, 'cause that stuff's useful."

"How?"

"You'll see."

/

Bruce wakes to an unsettled stomach; he's drenched with sweat. Stumbling over to the bathroom, he can hardly see a thing beyond glowing lights from various machines. Banner makes it in enough time to vomit into the toilet; Tony left the seat up again. The taste of iron stings Bruce's mouth and throat. Oh, great. There's probably blood, which means it's a biohazard.

"Are you alright, sir?" Jarvis calls ever so conveniently.

"Yeah," Bruce croaks. "I'm fine." He hesitates a bit. "This stuff needed to be contained. Initiate code I-960."

"As you wish, sir."

The scientist pushes himself up and leans against the wall for balance. The toilet flushes. He turns, staring at himself in the mirror. The face he sees is like a zombie with sunken eyes and a pale complexion. Holding his aching skull, Bruce goes back to his place on the couch.

/

At the end of the grueling week, Tony picks Peter and Wade up from the train station. He embraces his son and leads them both over to the car.

"Daddy, where's Papa?"

"Papa's at home. He's sick."

"Can I see him?"

"No, we wouldn't want you to get sick, too."

"Oh." Peter pauses. "When's he gonna get better?"

"I don't know, Petey. Soon. Let's just get Wade home now. How was camp?"

/

Soon was an understatement. Upon waking up, Bruce musters up enough energy to move around. The – whatever it was – seems to have taken its course. Banner makes it all the way upstairs and into the kitchen. He pours himself some coffee with a remarkably steady hand and sits down. Three-o-clock. Tony should be home with Peter soon.

"Papa!" Peter bustles through the door, his arms outstretched.

Bruce stands unevenly and grins, welcoming his son.

"I missed you," Peter murmurs into his father's abdomen.

"I missed you, too." Bruce's movements are slow and his voice is a bit raspy.

"Daddy said you were sick. Are you better now?"

"Yeah, more or less."

Tony grins from across the room. He walks over and kisses his husband lightly on his chapped lips. "Glad to see you up."

"Me too."

/


End file.
